


Working For The Weekend

by TheSightlessSniper



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Food, General Lightheartedness, Just the boys having a fun day out, Lots of Food, M/M, Marvey Secret Santa 2017, OOC, Out of Character, Tumblr: Marvey Secret Santa, Tumblr: marveysecretsanta, and fun!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 23:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13018608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSightlessSniper/pseuds/TheSightlessSniper
Summary: ‘Screw you, you rat bastard.’He knew that voice. He slowly edged his way up to sitting, frowning. ‘Mike?’‘I’m awake at six am on a Saturday, on a day off no less, and I realised you’ve made me into that douche with no life outside of work.’ There was a sigh, and then the sound of a body flopping onto a rickety couch. ‘I have no life, and no friends besides you.’When Mike realises Harvey has turned him into a workaholic, he decides to take what little social life he has within the office out of it, and asks Harvey to hang out with him for the day.





	Working For The Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my submission for the Marvey Secret Santa 2017 - hope my lovely recipient enjoys! <3
> 
> For Rikutaa! こんにちは!

Since beginning working for Harvey, Mike had really grown to hate Saturdays.

Before, Saturdays had been all about getting up late. About blazing up a joint with Trevor, and watching kids tv shows while eating last night’s leftover congealed cold pizza/Chinese/Thai food and giggling at the dirty jokes that had been slipped past the radar for bored parents to enjoy.

Saturday mornings meant a very different thing now. It was no longer kids TV and cold take-out on the couch. It was getting up at six to hit the office by seven, and getting ragged on by Louis for his friendship with Harvey, and spending hours doing research and collating documents and evidence for cases.

So when Harvey told him to take the weekend off, Mike woke up like clockwork at six AM, poured himself a cup of sub-par instant coffee, and realised he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself. His entire life orbited around his job. He had become _that guy_.

Without thinking, he picked up his phone, pressed the appropriate contact name, and waited.

 

Harvey wasn’t asleep, but he wasn’t completely awake either. So when his phone began to dance across his nightstand like it was trying to escape the tyranny of the bedside lamp, he groaned loudly and grabbed it. ’Harvey Specter.’

_‘Screw you, you rat bastard.’_

He knew that voice. He slowly edged his way up to sitting, frowning. ‘Mike?’

_‘I’m awake at six am on a Saturday, on a day off no less, and I realised you’ve made me into that douche with no life outside of work.’_ There was a sigh, and then the sound of a body flopping onto a rickety couch. _‘I have no life, and no friends besides you.’_

‘Come on, Mike.’  
_‘Seriously.’_

‘No, I mean come on, Mike. We’re not friends,’ he chuckled, grinning even though Mike couldn’t see him, ‘you’re my work bitch.’

_‘And we’re back to the screw-you-Harvey state of mind. Seriously, what do you do with your spare time, besides pick up women? Do you watch movies, tv shows, play video games? Do you secretly hide dead bodies and use your respectable position and knowledge as a lawyer as a front for organised crime?’_

For a moment, Harvey considered telling Mike about the Xbox sitting in his living room with a barely-played copy of Overwatch resting in the optical drive tray, but decided against it; he might have been a geek on the inside, but there was no way that knowledge would stay secret if he invited Mike over to play it.

He shrugged. ‘Mm. I go to the gym. I watch a few movies, but I haven’t been in a while. I read. And yeah, I do pick up the one-nighter here and there.’

Rustling. And then Mike spoke. _‘Hey, wild idea. There’s a showing of this really great Korean movie called ‘I’m a Cyborg’ down the block at this independent movie theatre. If you can stomach coming all the way to Brooklyn and seeing my face outside of work voluntarily, you feel like going?’_

For a second, Harvey considered refusing. It was Brooklyn, to start with. Secondly, he would have to drive himself out there, because Ray spent Saturdays with his family and he didn’t want to disturb him on one of the few days of the week the man had to himself. But then again, the only thing he’d had planned for the day was sitting around watching How To Get Away With Murder on Netflix—episodes he had seen at least three times already—he had nothing better to do. He did have the Tesla from the car club doing nothing down in his parking space.

And although he tried to deny it, because it was Mike asking, it was a little bit hard to refuse when he had a crush on him that was getting increasingly more intense with every day that went past.

Even though Mike couldn’t see him, Harvey nodded. ‘What time?’

 

When Mike caught sight of Harvey rounding the corner, he grinned from ear to ear. ‘Goddamn, I actually got you to come all the way out here without the promise of scotch and women.’

‘All in good time—that’s for this evening,’ the other winked.

Mike handed over the ticket to the movie, slapping him playfully on the arm. ‘I’ll be the best wingman ever.’

Popcorn and drinks purchased—where Mike had insisted on the largest bucket of sweet-salty-butter mix possible—they were sat in the middle of the tiny theatre, surrounded by a combination of empty seats and hipster couples waiting for the movie to begin.

Harvey nudged his elbow, jutting his chin in the direction of a few people several rows in front of them. ‘Fifty bucks one of them falls asleep.’

‘A hundred if when we’re walking out, one of them says they could understand it without the subtitles,’ he whispered back.

‘A hundred, and a bottle of scotch that the one on the left makes pretentious comments about it in the lobby.’

‘And knows nothing about South Korea.’ At that, both of them snorted.

 

It was almost half an hour into the movie, when Mike’s concentration on the subtitles was jolted away. It didn’t matter; he’d seen the movie once before, but he still jumped when he felt the nudge at his elbow.

He glanced at Harvey, frowning. ‘What?’

The other said nothing, but gestured several rows away from them. One of the really hipster types had tapped out already, head thrown back and soft snores passing from between his lips.

Mike snickered quietly. When he turned back, Harvey’s concentration had already snapped back to the screen, eyes flicking from side to side as he scanned over the subtitles near the bottom, and lips moving in a way that Mike only realised after a few seconds was in near-perfect sync with the foreign language words being spoken. _Harvey speaks Korean?_

There was something mesmerising about watching Harvey concentrating. If he was focusing on something he didn’t like, a deep furrow would appear in his forehead, the stress almost visibly pulsating underneath. When it was something that was amusing him, that characteristic smirk would appear, slowly fading into a wide grin that crinkled the delicate skin around his eyes. When he was mulling over something that was clearly upsetting him, his jaw would tense, and his eyes would look tighter, as if he was holding back an outburst of tears but would never let them fall. He’d never seen Harvey cry before, but he imagined that there would be a day where it would happen, and he had no idea how he’d handle it.

This was a new one; concentrating, but still relaxed. And he had to admit, it was a good look on Harvey; his lips were slightly upturned, his brow soft, and his eyes reflected a tiny mirror image of the screen before them with just a little glint of amusement at the characters interacting.

He must have noticed he was being observed. Harvey turned his head, eyes locking with his. ‘You okay?’ he whispered.

‘Yeah, why?’

‘You’re staring.’

‘Uh?’

‘Is there something on my face?’

‘Uh. No. Sorry. Just thought I saw something, but it was just the light,’ Mike babbled quietly, swiftly turning back to the screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harvey turn back to focus on the movie, but the amused smirk had already fixed itself on his lips.

The low light of the theatre did little to hide his burning cheeks.

 

When the movie ended, and the bets had been counted up—every single bet condition had been fulfilled and they’d both agreed that it was a stalemate—they stepped back outside the theatre into the busy streets.

As soon as they were in the open air, Harvey stretched upwards, then turned to Mike. ‘You know any places that do a good burger?’

He raised one eyebrow. ’You can eat after that much popcorn?’

‘I could eat, if it’s a decent burger. With fries.’

‘I know all the places that do a good burger.’

‘Where’s the best one you know?’

‘Honestly? A block from here in a dive bar. Their three-dollar beers taste like shit, but their six-dollar burgers are the best because the guy who runs it owns the butcher shop next door. He even makes his own pickles and relish.’

‘Then let’s go.’

As if the concept was banned, the conversation on the way to the bar was about anything but work. Mike mentioned about Harvey mouthing along with the movie, and he shrugged sheepishly. ‘I learned a little in college when I dated a Korean girl for a while. It’s a bastard to learn how to pronounce things correctly, and you’re guaranteed that a native speaker will correct your pronunciation anyway, but once you get a little bit of it down, it’s a fulfilling language to learn, and the writing system is so much simpler than Japanese.’

The other shrugged back at him. ‘I hit a road block in learning Japanese. I got as far as learning the two phonetic writing systems back in high school, but that’s it.’

Frowning, Harvey nudged his arm. ’Why didn’t you learn more?’

A pause. Mike’s expression dropped, and he looked away. ‘Trevor.’

The conversation stopped short, and they were silent the rest of the way.

 

He’d heard a lot of questionable noises come out of Harvey’s mouth, but the sound that was coming out of it at that moment could only be described as obscene.

Harvey moaned around the second bite of his burger, eyes rolling back a little. ‘Oghmuhgruhd.’

‘Good, right?’ he grinned, taking a bite out of his own in spite of the flush rising in his cheeks. ‘Diablo’s run the butcher shop for years with his wife. His two daughters took over the bar a few years ago and started turning it into a bar-and-burger joint. Worth the trip?’

Harvey swallowed his mouthful, nodding. ‘If I’d know this place existed, I’d have been making any excuse to come down to Brooklyn.’

‘Hang out at my place more often, you’ll have an excuse. Sure, it’s a shit-hole, but it’s so close to the best burgers in the entire state.’

‘Or I could make you bring me one up to my condo and we could watch the game on tv that’s bigger than a cereal box.’

‘Or you could quit being a snob and admit that the best burger you’ve ever had cost you less than a quarter of a glass of your favourite Scotch and you would walk five hundred miles in the middle of winter to get one.’

Harvey didn’t reply, but tore another chunk out of his burger, avoiding eye contact.

’Your silence speaks volumes.’

‘I was debating whether or not to follow that comment up with “And five hundred more”.’ Harvey grinned around another bite.

When they were finished, and after he’d had left a hefty tip in the jar on the counter—’Fifty dollars isn’t overkill, right?’—Harvey stepped back onto the street with a full stomach, and Mike in tow.

He glanced at his watch, biting his lip. By then, he should have been hitting up the gym, or going for a run, or sitting down in front of the TV and firing up the video-games he pretended that he didn’t play. Instead of the urge to find any excuse to leave though, he wanted to stick around; he’d been covertly thrilled when he’d noticed Mike looking at him during the movie. Mike had been leaning in subconsciously, and he’d been more than six inches closer to his face by the time Harvey had interrupted his staring. It had taken every ounce of willpower he had not to turn back and close the space between their mouths.

Harvey sucked in a breath. There was no chance he could have done that and not been knocked clean out in response.

Shaking away a fresh wave of disappointment, he cleared his throat. ‘So, what next?’

Mike looked up from checking his phone messages, half-smiling. ‘You actually want to hang out?’

‘I’ve got nothing better to do. What is there to do around here?’

‘How about hitting another bar?’

‘You actively seeking a hangover now?’

He shrugged. ’I’ve got all of Sunday to recover.’

Chuckling, Harvey gestured to the sidewalk. ‘Then lead the way. Take me somewhere I can drink you under the table.’

‘No way. Forget the table…I’m drinking you under the goddamn floorboards.’

 

‘Floral boxers?’

‘Hey, they were a Christmas gift from my brother’s wife. I wore them because they were comfortable, and a gift.’ Harvey flipped his middle finger up, scowling playfully over the rim of his glass.

Mike chortled into his own tumbler. ‘So you ended up standing out on the balcony, in the snow, in nothing but floral boxers?’

‘Not just floral…hippy flowers floral. Right as the ball dropped and midnight hit. Everyone started kissing, and I was stood outside, freezing my balls off, while everyone else was having their New Years kiss and wailing Auld Lang Syne. Jessica has photographic evidence which I have sworn her to secrecy with because I have equally incriminating photos of her.’

‘Doing what?!’

‘Let’s just say, you know that statue of Hans Christian Anderson in Central Park? He’s had a lap-dance or two after one or twelve champagnes.’

At that, Mike threw his head back and lost it, laughing loud enough to earn a few surprised stares from some of the people at the bar. Harvey shook his head, chuckling as he took another sip out of his glass. Another drink, in another dive bar, and he and Mike had somehow got to New Years party stories of old.

The afternoon turned into evening. More drinks were ordered and consumed, and Harvey relaxed into the vague alcoholic haze developing. ‘I could go for some more fries right now.’

Mike shook his head, draining his current glass. ‘Not here. Last time I was here I got food poisoning.’

He immediately retracted his hand from the menu he’d been reaching for. ‘Where then?’

‘Pizza, Chinese, Thai, another burger? Or just the french fries?’

‘Now? Just the french fries.’

‘In that case, I know a place.’

The real buzz only set in when they stepped out onto the street. The cool evening air hit Harvey in the face, and suddenly he felt like he’d drank his weight in alcohol rather than just a few glasses. Bumping into Mike’s shoulder, he steadied himself using the other’s upper arm, and followed his lead to the next location.

As it turned out, it was only a few streets away when Mike ground to a halt with a grin and pushed a sliding door to the side. ‘Now this is where we want to be.’

Stepping through the opening Mike was beckoning him through, Harvey blinked at the sight that met him. It didn’t feel so much like he was in a cafe, or a restaurant, but rather someone’s living room; there were no tables or dining chairs, only couches and plush armchairs surrounding coffee tables, with relaxed-looking patrons gathered around playing card games and laughing together. A small archway that he presumed led to a bathroom led off the opposite end of the room, and the air was full of the low rumble of instrumental rock music which—if he was being totally honest—wasn’t half-bad.

As if on cue, a woman who couldn’t have been any older than her late twenties stepped around the archway, smile immediately appearing as she caught sight of who had entered. ‘Mikey!’

Mike instantly broke out into a tipsy smile, wandering over open-armed and embracing her tightly. ‘It’s been far too long, Annie.’

‘Damn straight. I thought you’d truly joined the dark side of corporate Manhattan and you were never going to darken my doorway again.’ She returned the hug, glancing over his shoulder at Harvey. ‘And who is this fine specimen?’

Mike chuckled, turning. ‘This is my boss, Harvey Specter. Harvey, this is Annie Oakland.’

‘Like Annie Oakley, but with far worse aim.’

Harvey held out a hand, which she accepted and shook strongly. ‘Good to meet you.’

‘Good to meet you. Last time Mike was here, he failed to mention he works with another handsome man. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was trying to keep you from me lest I try and steal you away,’ she stated with a wink, gesturing to one of the smaller coffee tables with an armchair on either side. ‘What would you like to drink?’

‘What do you serve?’

She smiled. ‘A few craft beers, but I’m known for making a mean Irish coffee.’

He grinned. ‘I’ll take an Irish coffee then. You serve fries?’

‘Regular, rosemary, Cajun-style spices?’

Before he could reply, Mike got there first. ‘One rosemary, one cajun. And an Irish coffee for me too.’

She nodded and winked. ‘Coming right up.’

Mike smiled as she flitted away, gazing after her. ‘Annie makes awesome food. No Michelin-star recognition or fancy foodie stuff, but everything she does makes you feel like you’re at home. And her kitchen is probably cleaner than a hospital O.R., so little to no chance of food poisoning.’

Harvey nodded, but he barely heard him over the budding jealousy. Annie wasn’t someone who he found spectacularly attractive; she had a rounded face with bright golden-brown eyes, an endearing crooked smile, and shoulder-length blonde hair layered with hints of blue showing through when it shifted as she walked. Not his type at all. But it was evident from the interactions that had passed between them that even if Mike didn’t have a crush on her, she was definitely someone who he meshed with on a personality level, and they were more than comfortable with physical expressions of affection with each other. _I wish I could hug him like that_.

‘—vey? Harvey?’

He snapped back with a jolt, eyes locking with Mike’s across the table. ‘Mm?’

‘You were gone there for a minute. Have I got you drunk already?’

At Mike’s mischievous grin, he forced a smirk onto his face. ‘Not yet, rookie. I’m still very in control of my faculties.’

‘Not when I’m done with you. You’re going to be horizontal by the time we’re done.’

_Oh god, I wish_. ‘Not on your life.’

 

Mike was feeling particularly smug. Three times in one day, he had gotten Harvey to do weird and wonderful places for food and drink, and all three times, if the empty plates and glasses had been anything to go by, he had thoroughly enjoyed himself.

By the time they’d finished up the fries and devoured what Harvey had described as “the Donna of brownies”, they had almost definitely had enough to drink. Even so, Mike chuckled as Harvey lifted his hand in Annie’s direction. ‘You know what to do, Miss Oakland.’

Grinning, she finished serving one of the other tables their food, and poured them two more scotches from the rapidly disappearing supply in the bottle. ‘You’re drinking me out of Macallan, boys. I should charge you double.’

‘I’ll pay you triple what it’s worth if we can take the rest of the bottle,’ Harvey suggested.

He complemented the suggestion with a wink, and Annie smirked back. ‘For triple, I’ll bring you guys a second dessert.’

He waved a hand. ’The scotch is fine. I’m too full to eat anything else.’

‘I’m sure you’ll find room for more. There’s plenty of delicious things here.’ Returning the wink, Annie placed the bottle down on the table before swiftly wandering away to attend to other customers, leaving them alone once more.

Mike drank more of his glass, chewing his lip as he watched Harvey refill his own. He was completely incapable of taking his eyes off the way the man’s mouth moved; the way his tongue would periodically dart out over his lips, wetting them enough to shine in the warm light and keep catching his attention.

And every time Annie came up and touched Harvey’s arm in the affectionate way he knew her to, a familiar bubbling sensation percolated in the pit of his stomach. _Why am I getting all weird and possessive over Harvey?_

Gesturing to him to refill his glass, Mike stood. ‘Back in a sec.’

‘My turn to make the prostate jokes. You sure it’s all working alright in there?’

‘Just had one too many drinks with some asshole I work with.’

‘For.’

‘Fine, for. Gimme a break, four scotches on top of beer would make anyone need to piss.’ With a middle finger childishly thrown up in Harvey’s direction, Mike waggled his tongue at him, then wobbled across the room towards the bathroom.

When he was done and zipped back up, he stood in front of the sink as he washed his hands, smiling dopily to his reflection. He knew he was going to feel less than spectacular in the morning, but it was worth it; he’d spent almost the entire day with Harvey outside of the office, and he’d seen more than a passing resemblance to actual enjoyment. There was no way the handsome bastard could get away with saying he didn’t care anymore.

The grin widened. He’d always been able to appreciate that about Harvey. He was seriously handsome and without a doubt, if his boss swung that way, he was definitely someone that Mike could go with; the way his smile pulled at his lips, the way his tongue would slide out over them, the pinkness of them in the low light of the bar and how they’d quirk as he spoke each syllable—

The realisation sank in slowly, his smile fading. Sudsy hands froze under the tap. ‘Holy shit, I’m hot for Harvey.’

'If you wanted to keep that a secret, you should probably check who else is walking into the bathroom before you say shit like that.’ Mike almost leapt out of his skin. He swivelled on his heel, stumbling against the sink with wet hands before regaining equilibrium.

Harvey stood behind the door, face intense as he blinked back at him. ‘You’re hot for me?’

‘I— I’m sorry.’

‘You’re hot for me?’

‘I…‘ Mike stammered. Harvey was stood between him and the only exit. There was no way he was getting out of this short of burrowing out of one of the walls like Andy Dufresne.

And then Harvey stepped closer.

He snaked forward, every step echoing off the tile walls and closing the gap. Harvey only stopped when he was barely a foot away from him, face just inches away. ‘You want me?’

Mike swallowed. ‘Harvey—‘

‘You really want me?’ His breath smelled like scotch. His brown eyes were darkened, the lids threatening to fall half-closed. This was a new expression on him; Mike had never seen desire on his face so closely.

He blinked through the tipsy haze, forcing eye contact. ‘Yeah.’

‘Then have at me.’

Despite the invitation, Mike hesitated. He couldn’t really kiss Harvey.

Could he?

The other leaned back a step. 'You going to do it?'

What could he say? He could get millimetres away and Harvey could pull away, laughing in his face at his naivety. Stock-still, Mike’s mouth hung open wordlessly as he blinked between the other’s lips and eyes.

Harvey took another step back, and let out a slow breath. His face shifted, defeat melting onto his features. ‘Damn. I’m sorry. Forget it.’

_Now or never_. Before Harvey could take a third step away, Mike grabbed his arm, tugging him forwards and connecting their mouths so hard their noses bumped and their teeth smacked into each other. He grabbed at the white t-shirt against his firm chest with damp hands, grappling for the edge of it and dragging it upwards to run his fingertips against Harvey’s toned waist. Against his lips, Harvey let out a relieved laugh, melting into a throaty hum as the kiss deepened.

It was like a door opening, flooding a pitch-dark room in light, blinding him and letting him see at the same time. When their lips finally parted, he gasped, head falling back as his vision spun. Whether it was from the alcohol or the kiss, he couldn’t tell, but the kiss had certainly made an impact; the lights in the ceiling above were brighter, the warmth in the room headier and more humid than when he’d first stepped in, and every inch of his exposed skin felt like it was on fire under Harvey’s touch.

Harvey breathed deep. ‘Are you in the closet?’

Mike snapped back to facing him, bewildered. ‘Ten minutes ago, I had no idea I even had a closet, let alone that I was locked in there. Jesus, Harvey.’

‘Technically, I’m not. I don’t hide who I sleep with, but people assume I don’t date men because they’ve never met me with a guy before. Besides women, they probably just think I’m well acquainted with my right hand.’

’I never would have thought…’ he trailed off, shaking his head and huffing out a laugh. Hands had drifted somewhere in the kiss, sliding up his chest and up into silky, distinctly ruffled dark blond hair. Their legs were as tangled as they could be without falling over, Harvey’s hips coming closer and pressing his against the sink counter while his hands gripped at his waist and thumbed tenderly against his hipbones over his jeans. He shook his head again, a little chuckle coming out. ‘How long?’

‘Huh?’

‘How long were you waiting for that to happen?’

‘Since the flower-shaped pineapple. And even more so after our little dalliance with our mutual coffee cart-related buddy.’

Mike smiled lopsidedly. ‘Really? Had the hots for me for that long, have you?’

‘Don’t let it go to your head, kid.’

‘Out of all the men in New York, I’m the one getting you to make out with me in the bathroom of a late-night cafe.’

‘Not my first time.’

‘But the best.’

With a faux-thoughtful expression, Harvey hummed. ‘Well…’

‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’

‘It’ll be the best if one thing comes from it.’

‘And what’s that?’

At that, Harvey leaned in, brushing his lips against his ear and whispering low. The words were pretty, and dirty, and he cursed under his breath; he’d had no idea that drunk Harvey had such a filthy tongue. He caught snippets of _pounding_ , and _deep_ , and _hours_ , and _euphoria_. That dirty tongue was promising a delicious and thorough ravishing back at his own apartment. How could he say no?

Harvey pulled back, eyes lust-glazed. ‘So?’

Pecking him on the side of his mouth, Mike slid his lips across Harvey’s cheek, breathing against it before laying a kiss next to his ear. ‘Take me home. Now.’

**Author's Note:**

> Special thank you to statusquoergo, who was my very sweet Beta for this!


End file.
